


Catching Up

by vulcantastic (juxtapose)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: CANON ERASURE, Crack Treated Seriously, Fuck this show, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 11:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9381656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juxtapose/pseuds/vulcantastic
Summary: It was just...a very weird dream.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Juxtapose here on my Tumblr alias! 
> 
> You haven't seen me post any Sherlock in four and a half years, and with good reason. From halfway into Series 3, Episode 1 ("The Empty Hearse") I knew it wasn't the show I fell in love with, and little did I know it never would be again.
> 
> Here's all I could think to do now that it's (likely) over: write.
> 
> (Originally posted on my tumblr.)
> 
> If people want me to _actually_ continue with this––short little ficlets, I mean, operating in a setting in which most of Series 3 and all of Series 4 didn't happen––I'd be happy to. Might take me a while to churn them out, but this has been therapeutic for me, and if it is for you, I'll keep going.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except a glimmer of hope that I've been dreaming the last two seasons.

“Stop pacing. It’s distracting.”

“––I had a kid! A little girl –– with Mary, I mean. Who I married. Except we just lied to each other all the time. Is that supposed to be an omen? And then she _died_ , Sherlock. Died saving you. It was awful. Jumped in front of a bullet. Imagine if I told her that.” A pause, a shudder. “You’re lucky she likes you.”

“Hmm.”

“Felt like I didn’t even _know_ her and then she was gone. How the hell am I supposed to broach _that_ subject ever again? Marriage, I mean. ‘Hi Mary; fancy marrying me? I had a dream it all went to shit.’”

“You’ve done worse with your girlfriends in the past.”

“…And then I blamed you for it, and you got really high and kept saying ‘the game is afoot’––”

“As you’ve been so kind to point out to me, such repetition negates the impact of the expression.”

“Damn right it does. Especially when you say it too many times with the hat on. Anyway. I also kind of just forgot about the kid. Dunno where she went sometimes. Shit. Does this mean I’d make an awful dad?––”

“John, _do_ get to the point. This is beginning to sound like one of your blog posts.”

“My blog! That, too. For some reason I was writing like my daughter had been born before it even happened, and also anytime I looked at my blog on my laptop it was a screenshot image. Oh! And. _Sherlock_. You had a _secret sister_.”

Raised eyebrows over a copy of  _The Times_. “Intrigue.”

“Yeah. Third Holmes sibling. And she chained me to a well at your family’s place. _And_  she was in talks with Moriarty, which is why he knew all the stuff he did about you and screwed with us for so long. Convenient, isn’t it?”

“Ah, so an _evil_  third sibling.”

“Exactly. And she killed your friend when you were a kid so you turned him into a dog––”

“John.” With an accentuated  _flap_ , Sherlock dropped the newspaper he’d been reading onto his lap. “I must stop you there. What utterly ludicrous dribble. Have you been dipping into my old stash?”

“Of course I haven’t––oi, you’ve still got a _stash_ here? You were dead for 2 years!”

“I was _pretending_  to be dead for 2 years; _obviously_  I had a stash to come back to. Emergencies, John.”

“We’re coming back to that in a minute.” John finally stopped pacing about the flat and let out a loud sigh, running a hand through his hair. “It was just…a very weird dream. And it all started when you made a practical joke out of a bomb on the bloody Tube. And y’know, I have half a mind to think you _would_ find my sheer terror hilarious.”

“Rubbish.” Sherlock shrugged. “You’re an overtly emotional person, John. Nothing to laugh about. It’s an unfortunate flaw.”

“Touching.” John rolled his eyes. “Well. I’m…glad none of it happened that way. I’m glad…you’re back and it’s…good.”

“You did punch me, John.”

“Yeah, but you deserved it,” John replied with a satisfied nod. “M’gonna make us some tea. Did you get an email back from that bloke Nathan Garrideb?”

“Five minutes into your nonsensical story, yes. I imagine even _his_  will be more plausible.”

“Right. Catch me up…”


End file.
